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Talk:Malachite/@comment-2601:1C2:700:18EF:7434:23BB:FD07:9DCB-20190709200256
"Pass! Pass! PASS!" Clay yelled, waving his arms. "I'm right near the hoop! PASS!" Coach Kestrel blew her whistle. "You don't yell 'pass' when you're in a real game, Diaz!" "It's just practOOOF," he groaned, hugging his stomach. The ball had definitely missed his hands. "Dude, are you ok?" Storm asked, picking up the basketball. "Sorry about that." "I'm fine, I'm just regretting the double cheeseburger at lunch." "Guys, make this one for the record!" Sepia said, grinning. "Clay is regretting eating food!" "Oh, you haven't seen me after Thanksgiving. I was actually absent the first day back last year because I ate too much." "Okay, okay, walk it off," Coach Kestrel yelled, waving her arms. "Practice is almost over, and I want you knuckleheads to get in at least one basket." Sepia shrugged. "I can work with that." She scooped up the basketball and tossed it behind her one-handed. It went straight into the hoop. Everyone else applauded. "And that is why Sep is our team captain," Storm said. "Boosting us to victory, one shot at a time." "It's not winning that matters, though," Clay pointed out. "It's having fun." "Fun?!" Kestrel barked. "We don't get trophies for having fun, Diaz! We don't earn respect for having fun! We have to win for that!" Clay sighed. He'd heard this lecture several times from several coaches. Honestly, he didn't really care about winning or trophies or all that. He played basketball because he liked it. 'Nuff said. "Hey, guys, did you hear that they're starting auditions for the winter play?" Storm said casually. "It's A Midsummer Night's Dream." "Do any of us have time for that, though?" Snail pointed out, pushing back a lock of electric-blue hair. "I mean, the season's already started." "I never would've pegged you as the type to try out," Sepia said, looking at Storm curiously. "You're usually the 'leave me alone, I'm trying to study' person when you're not on the court." "I just thought I'd try out something different," Storm mumbled. "Besides, I like Shakespeare. Especially Dream." Clay gave him an encouraging smile. "You know, maybe I'll try out, too. Sporty people can be theater geeks, too." Storm brightened. "Thanks, Clay. You're the best." (Time skip) "Stupid, stupid, stupid," Clay muttered, running down the sidewalk. In the excitement after practice, he'd forgotten about the gang's weekly meet-up at the pool. And now he was going to be late for the third week in a row. His phone buzzed repeatedly in his pocket. After a little bit, it started going a buzz a second---probably Tsunami spamming him. With a frustrated groan, he pulled it out of his pocket. Tsunami:'' Where'' Tsunami: Are Tsunami:'' You'' Tsunami: We Tsunami: Are Tsunami: Waiting Tsunami: For Tsunami: You Tsunami: ''You'' Tsunami: Little It was at that second that Clay tripped over someone's outstretched foot. That someone's hand shot out and grabbed his right before he hit the pavement. "Thanks," Clay panted, turning his head. Dark brown eyes met bright, eerie blue. Eyes filled with an emotion that could only be described as terror. "How..." the girl choked, slowly pulling him to his feet. "How..." With growing dread, Clay noticed her fire-red hair shot through with gold. The flame patterns on her clothing. The steam coming from her skin. I'm going to die, he thought. I'm going to die holding the hand of the most dangerous girl in the city. And late to meet up with my friends. But he wasn't going up in flames. He was perfectly fine. His hand wasn't even burned. "You're alive," Peril McQueen whispered, turning his hand over in her gloved one. "Who in the Seven Circles of Hell are you?" "Clay Diaz," he blurted. "And---and I'm late." He turned and ran. "What? You can't just---wait!" Clay couldn't hear her. Every nerve in his body was tingling. His senses were powered-up. And his phone was still buzzing. Running as fast as he could, he yanked his phone out of his pocket, typed in a quick text, and sent it. Then he started at it. He'd meant to text Had practice, something weird happened, be right there. But somehow, he'd sent this: Clay: Salamander ------------------- Building up a little mystery and Cleril in this chapter... mostly concerning Clay's ability. I meant for this to be longer, sorry. Sepia and Snail are actual characters in the books, and Storm belongs to Serpent the LeafWing. I hope I got his personality right... sorry if I messed it up. I'll update the next chapter as soon as I can, and hope you liked this one! ---Starry the NightWing